


The Road to Hell

by RedRowan



Series: The Boxer's Daughter [5]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 02, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Bisexual Female Character, Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Female Matt Murdock, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Character of Color, Rule 63, The Chaste, girl! Matt Murdock, past Matt/Elektra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9838697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRowan/pseuds/RedRowan
Summary: There are a lot of people Mattie could blame for her current predicament.  The Hand.  Stick.  Elektra.  Frank Castle.  But Mattie knows she really has no-one to blame but herself.Alternate Season 2.





	1. She's Out of Control

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is a bit of an experiment. I didn't want to do the same thing I did with Season 1 and These Precious Things, so I tried to do something a little different. It might work, it might not. Let's find out!

_You wanna catch her but she'll never slow down._  
_You wanna find her but she's never around._  
_You know it drives you crazy when she says no._  
_When she lets go,_  
_She's out of control._ \- "She's Out of Control," The Donnas

Mattie sits on the concrete floor, smells of blood and sweat surrounding her. Everyone is moving, outside, throughout the building, here in the stairwell with her. She wants to scream at them to stop, stop everything, stop breathing if they can, because it’s too loud, too much.

She concentrates on Elektra’s heartbeat, but even her heart is pounding with adrenaline. The Frenchman, Jacques, says something, and Elektra answers back. Neither of them sound hopeful.

____Foggy is outside with Karen and Ben and Brett, and the Hand are between her and them._ _ _ _

____For a wild, frantic moment, Mattie wants to scream at the absurdity of it all. A year and a half. Less than that. A year and a half to go from office hunting and bank loans to sitting in the middle of a group of ninjas, waiting for an army to come for them._ _ _ _

____She could trace it back to that night, hearing Zoe McLennan crying in her room. Or she could blame Stick for the whole thing, take it all the way back to her childhood. She could pin it all on Frank Castle, say it was all his fault, or Elektra, but neither of those are true._ _ _ _

____Wesley. Wesley was where it started, really. Foggy appearing in their apartment and stammering out that he’d shot him. He never got over that, not really. It wasn’t like he could go to therapy for it. She’d done the best she could, teaching him her meditation techniques, telling him over and over again that it wasn’t his fault. He never really believed her._ _ _ _

____Then the panic attacks had stopped. She hadn’t noticed the moment, but looking back, she realizes that it had been Pam’s case. They’d sat in the interview room in Central Booking, and Mattie had put her arms around Pam and told her that she did nothing wrong, that she’d been protecting someone she loved. And she’d heard Foggy’s breath catch._ _ _ _

____“We’re going to get you out of this,” he’d said, with so much force and determination that Mattie could have believed he’d snap Pam’s cuffs himself in that moment._ _ _ _

____At the arraignment, Foggy had given an impassioned speech that the judge had dryly observed was more appropriate for a closing argument than an arraignment. They’d gotten Pam released without bail, though._ _ _ _

____“Take her home, take care of her,” he’d said._ _ _ _

____“What are you going to do?” she’d said._ _ _ _

____“I’m going to find Jessica Jones.” Pam had told them that Jones had appeared at the scene just after Pam had killed Wendy, and seemed to know something about the mysterious Kilgrave, something not even Jeri was willing to talk about._ _ _ _

____Jessica Jones was nowhere to be found, not by Foggy and not by Daredevil. Mattie was distracted by the bombing of Luke’s Bar (evidence of arson, no suspect except the missing owner), and the DA’s office finally decided to drop the charges against Pam, so they never got the answers they were looking for. They heard hints, about a riot on the docks, a body found, a claim of mind control, and Claire’s story about a man with unbreakable skin, and something about the case lit a fire under Foggy that hadn’t been there in months._ _ _ _

____Mattie had liked it. It had felt like having the old Foggy back. Harder and more determined, but just as passionate. He’d liked hearing about Mattie’s work as Daredevil. He’d seemed to derive some satisfaction from hearing about justice being done. And he’d liked her in the suit. Liked peeling it off of her, too._ _ _ _

____“I have a particular fondness for things that keep you alive,” he’d said, when she joked about it._ _ _ _

____He’d liked Daredevil until he’d found her unconscious on a rooftop, bleeding from where Frank Castle had shot her. Foggy had carried her home, had held her through her panic when her hearing had faded in and out, pressing her head against his chest so she could feel the vibration._ _ _ _

____Karen said that he’d lost it on Reyes when it became clear that Frank had kidnapped Mattie. Mattie, for her part, had woken up chained to a chimney, and immediately thought that Foggy was going to kill her if Frank Castle didn’t._ _ _ _

____“Kinky,” she’d snapped as she struggled against the chains. “By the way, my safe word is ‘I’m going to kick your ass.’”_ _ _ _

____“Cute, Red,” Castle had said._ _ _ _

____She’d made it out. Grotto hadn’t. She’d fought her way through the Dogs of Hell, losing Castle along the way, and staggered home to find Foggy almost frantic._ _ _ _

____Foggy hadn’t wanted to hear anything about Frank Castle after that. Not from Karen, who had called Ben in to help her dig into Castle’s past, and certainly not from Mattie, who had tried to find the man._ _ _ _

____“He’s a psychopath,” Foggy had said._ _ _ _

____“I’m not so sure about that,” Mattie had said._ _ _ _

____“He chained you to a chimney.”_ _ _ _

____“He was trying to make a point.” Mattie had shuddered against the memory of the gun in her hand. “So was I.”_ _ _ _

The Irish had Castle. Mattie had smelled the blood as soon as she’d found them, rich and coppery in her nose. She still doesn’t know how he’d fought that night, foot shredded and bones broken. _One batch, two batch, penny and dime._ Maybe it was more than just a memory. Maybe it was something to drag himself forward with.

____When he’d finally given out, they’d sat in the cemetery, both covered in blood, and she’d listened to him talk about his daughter. “You’re one bad day away from being me,” he’d said, on the rooftop. He hadn’t realized what he’d said, that the reverse was true, but as he’d talked in the graveyard, he’d shown her how much like her he’d once been._ _ _ _

_What we’ll do for love._ Foggy had faced that one bad day, and had killed Wesley to protect her. Did that make him like Frank Castle, too?

____She’d brushed her hand against Castle’s face, and he’d leaned into it, and she’d wondered when the last time was that someone had touched Castle with kindness. They’d stayed there, listening to the sirens approaching._ _ _ _

____That night had been the last time they’d been happy. Really, truly happy, with nothing hanging over them, just being able to be in love. She remembers the rainstorm breaking, walking from Josie’s to home while the rain had washed over them, getting soaked to the skin and not caring. Castle was under arrest, Ben was going to publish a profile on him, which made Karen happy, and Foggy was relieved that Mattie was safe, that it was over. They’d kissed on the corner, then run up the stairs, and burst through the apartment door with Foggy pushing her up against the wall and sliding his hand under her skirt. They’d been laughing, and all she could think of was getting her husband’s hands on her skin._ _ _ _

____“Hello, Matilda,” had come the voice that she hadn’t heard since she was twenty-one. “Franklin.”_ _ _ _

____“Elektra,” Mattie had said, dumbfounded._ _ _ _

____“What are you doing in our apartment?” Foggy had demanded. “And…drinking our beer?”_ _ _ _

____“Tastes like piss,” Elektra had said. “I like what you did with your hair, Mattie.”_ _ _ _

____“Mattie?” Foggy had said, sounding a little desperate._ _ _ _

____“What the hell are you doing here?” Mattie had said, stepping in front of Foggy. Elektra had always been…unpredictable, and she wasn’t about to let Foggy get hurt._ _ _ _

____“You’ve never been hard to find,” Elektra had said._ _ _ _

____“That’s not what I asked.”_ _ _ _

____“I heard you two got married. Very heteronormative,” Elektra had observed. “Congratulations, by the way.” Something in her heartbeat had wavered, then._ _ _ _

____“Is there a point to this?” Foggy had said._ _ _ _

____“Why are you here?” Mattie had said._ _ _ _

____“Would you believe it if I said I missed you?” Elektra had said._ _ _ _

____“No,” Mattie had snapped._ _ _ _

____“Smart girl. Columbia education really paid off.”_ _ _ _

____“No thanks to you,” Foggy had muttered._ _ _ _

____Elektra had just laughed. “I’m in New York for a meeting. I thought I’d pop by.”_ _ _ _

____“You couldn’t call first? Email? Send a messenger pigeon?” Foggy had said._ _ _ _

____“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing she could have said that would have surprised them. So they’d listened to her, listened to the whole story of the Roxxon Corporation and her father’s assets. “You’re the only person I can trust, Matilda.”_ _ _ _

____“You don’t get to break into my house and talk to me about trust,” Mattie had snapped._ _ _ _

____“Would you give us a minute?” Foggy had interrupted, pulling Mattie into the bedroom and sliding the door shut._ _ _ _

____“You don’t actually think this is a good idea,” Mattie had said._ _ _ _

____“No, it’s a terrible idea. But it’s just a meeting.”_ _ _ _

____“Which is tomorrow. How the hell am I supposed to prepare for that?”_ _ _ _

____“I’ll help you go over everything, we’ll pull an all-nighter, it’ll be just like old times.”_ _ _ _

____“Do you remember how stressed out we were back then? Remember how awful that was?”_ _ _ _

____“We need the money. We can’t pass this up. Even if she is crazy.” He’d said it so sadly, she’d known there was no way to win the argument._ _ _ _

____“I know,” she’d said._ _ _ _

____Elektra had offered them a fee that would keep them afloat for months. Mattie had pursed her lips and said, “Fine.”_ _ _ _

____They’d stayed up all night, and holed up in Mattie’s office while Karen and Ben had debated the Castle profile at Karen’s desk. When Foggy had dropped that the new, paying client was Mattie’s ex-girlfriend, Karen had said, “Not the…crazy one?”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah,” Foggy had said. “Her.”_ _ _ _

____When Mattie had left for the meeting, Foggy had been sucked into Karen and Ben’s discussion about Castle. Karen had been holding a framed picture that she’d said was Castle and his family. Foggy had been looking at it when Mattie had closed the door behind her._ _ _ _

____It had occurred to Mattie that Foggy might have been better suited to sit on Elektra’s side of the table, but the meeting with the Roxxon men was exactly like the hundreds Mattie had attended as an intern at Landman & Zack, some of them even involving Roxxon. Condescending old men, thinking the pretty girls had no understanding of business and economics. Elektra had smoothly undercut them, using some of the notes Mattie had prepared, then Mattie had heard a high-pitched electronic whine, something she had been sure was outside everyone else’s hearing. And she had been even more sure it was coming from the heavy, expensive pen Elektra twisted between her fingers._ _ _ _

____There had been a flurry of activity around them, then they’d been ushered out with promises to reconvene._ _ _ _

____“What did you do?” Mattie had said in the car as Elektra took her back to the office._ _ _ _

____“Nothing that concerns you,” Elektra had said. The car had stopped. “You’ve done your job. Take Foggy out to dinner to celebrate. I’m firing you.”_ _ _ _

____“Goodbye, Elektra.” Mattie had meant it. She’d thought it would be forever._ _ _ _

____She had climbed out of the car without another word._ _ _ _

____***_ _ _ _

____“They’re surrounding us,” Mattie says. Everyone looks at her. “The whole building, the civilians too.” She can hear them on the roofs._ _ _ _

____“Elektra,” Eric says, “what do we do?”_ _ _ _

____Elektra doesn’t know what to say._ _ _ _

____***_ _ _ _

____“Remember how I hated L &Z?” Mattie had said as she closed the door to Foggy’s office._ _ _ _

____“Yup. I seem to recall something about hating it so much you convinced me to leave and save the world with you,” Foggy had said._ _ _ _

____Mattie had slid into Foggy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck._ _ _ _

____“Remember what I thought about Roxxon?”_ _ _ _

____“Soulless megacorporation with the morals of Hannibal Lecter?”_ _ _ _

____“Something like that.” She’d leaned her head against his shoulder. “Elektra fired me. We’re done.”_ _ _ _

____“Good.”_ _ _ _

____Mattie could hear the heaviness in Foggy’s voice._ _ _ _

____“What happened?” she’d said._ _ _ _

____“Tower from the DA’s office stopped by. They wanted us to turn over our files on Grotto.”_ _ _ _

____“Without a subpoena? You told them no?”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah.” Foggy had sighed. “We lost two more clients,” he said._ _ _ _

____“Reyes?”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah. I called Marci - you know how Hogarth is tight with Reyes. Word on the street is Reyes is gunning for the mayor’s office, and she wants to run an anti-vigilante platform. So she wants to take down Castle, and then - “_ _ _ _

____“Me.”_ _ _ _

____Foggy’s arms had tightened around her waist._ _ _ _

____“Not gonna let that happen, kitten,” he’d said. “And that starts with not rolling over for Reyes now.”_ _ _ _

_You can’t defend every vigilante in New York_ , she’d thought.

____They’d taken Elektra’s money and taken Karen and Ben out for dinner. Karen and Ben were flushed with new information about Frank Castle._ _ _ _

“ _Somebody_ is covering up the Castle family’s murders,” Karen had said over curry.

____“Do you remember the story?” Foggy had asked Ben._ _ _ _

____Ben had shrugged his head. “Wrote up a piece on the blog, but that was -”_ _ _ _

____The shooting had been in April. Just before Doris had passed._ _ _ _

____“Right,” Mattie had said._ _ _ _

____“Sorry,” Foggy had said._ _ _ _

“I’m going to have a drink with Ellison,” Ben had said, breaking the awkward silence. “See what I can find out about why the _Bulletin_ didn’t report about the Castles.”

____“You going to give him the exclusive?” Karen had said._ _ _ _

____“If this pans out. The piece about the omissions is going up tonight, anything after that…” Ben had shrugged. “Would be nice to get paid instead of relying on ad dollars.”_ _ _ _

____Foggy had been quiet on the walk home._ _ _ _

____“What’s up?” Mattie had said._ _ _ _

____“Nothing,” he’d lied, before catching himself. “If Karen and Ben are right, and Castle’s family died in that shootout, you think that’s why he did it? Revenge?”_ _ _ _

____Mattie had thought of Frank talking about holding his daughter’s body._ _ _ _

____“Probably,” she’d said._ _ _ _

____He’d nodded, and squeezed her hand a little tighter against his side._ _ _ _

____“Guess I know what that feels like,” he’d said quietly._ _ _ _

____“It’s not the same, Foggy.”_ _ _ _

____They’d walked in silence until they’d reached the bottom of the stairs of their building._ _ _ _

____“He’s not going to get a fair trial,” Foggy had said._ _ _ _

____“If he has decent representation, there won’t be a trial, they’ll just get a plea bargain.”_ _ _ _

____“Not if Reyes wants a public crucifixion.”_ _ _ _

____“So, what? We keep second-guessing the entire system? We do that, then I’m just a fascist, and you’re just a patsy.”_ _ _ _

____“And what if the system fails?”_ _ _ _

____She’d smiled sadly. “You’re asking the Catholic lawyer?”_ _ _ _

____They hadn’t said much the rest of the climb up. When they opened the door, Mattie had known something was wrong. There was no-one inside, but things hadn’t been exactly as they’d left them this morning._ _ _ _

____“Someone’s been here,” she’d said._ _ _ _

____“Can you tell who?”_ _ _ _

____“No.”_ _ _ _

____“Should I call Brett?”_ _ _ _

____“Let’s see if anything’s gone.”_ _ _ _

____They’d searched the apartment, and couldn’t find anything missing until Mattie had found the wardrobe unlocked. Panicking, she’d dragged out the trunk and thrown it open to find her suit gone._ _ _ _

____“That fucking bitch,” she’d whispered._ _ _ _

____She’d practically sprinted all the way to Elektra’s penthouse, and grabbed Elektra, shoving her against the wall. Elektra had gotten in a few good strikes before they separated._ _ _ _

____“See? You missed me too,” Elektra had said._ _ _ _

____They’d fought, Elektra gloating about the “beautiful darkness” in Mattie._ _ _ _

____“I’m not that girl anymore,” Mattie had growled._ _ _ _

“No, you’re Foggy Nelson’s _wife_ ,” Elektra had said disdainfully.

____Then Mattie had heard the shooting downstairs._ _ _ _

____“What’s going on?” she’d demanded._ _ _ _

____“Oh, that? Yakuza, probably.”_ _ _ _

____Mattie should have left. She should have left Elektra to take care of the Yakuza on her own. Instead, she’d caught the bag as Elektra threw it to her, put on the suit inside, and helped Elektra take out the intruders. As Elektra had wolfed down a piece of pie in a diner around the corner, she’d more than once wanted to bang her forehead against the table._ _ _ _

____Instead, she’d agreed to help Elektra._ _ _ _

____Elektra had always known which buttons to push._ _ _ _

____And Mattie hadn’t even realized the buttons that were being pushed in Foggy until he was standing in front of her saying they had to help Frank Castle. She’d agreed (not least because of the public defender’s enthusiasm for the death penalty), but couldn’t help wondering._ _ _ _

_Is this about saving a man, or saving a vigilante?_

_Is this about saving Frank Castle, or saving me?_

_____Castle had taken them on (and Mattie had had the chance to go up against Reyes, finally), then Elektra’s driver had appeared._ _ _ _ _

_____“I thought she fired us,” Foggy had said._ _ _ _ _

_____“I, uh, said I’d help her with…” Mattie had waved a hand in the nebulous gesture that now meant “Daredevil stuff.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Seriously? Right now?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“It has to do with the Yakuza.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I thought you took care of that last year.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Clearly, I didn’t.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Right, OK, go, but I need you back here as soon as possible.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yeah, sure.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Elektra had dragged her off to a party to steal a ledger. A black-tie party, wearing a backless dress. Elektra had run her finger along the big scar low on her back._ _ _ _ _

_____“Those are new,” she’d said._ _ _ _ _

_____“Long story,” Mattie had said._ _ _ _ _

_____A judicious application of red wine to Stan Gibson’s shirt (spilling a good quantity on her own cleavage as well), a few skirmishes (learning along the way that fighting without a bra on is not a pleasant experience), and one instance of Elektra shoving Mattie onto a table and hitching her skirt up her thighs, and she and Elektra had the ledger. She’d laughed, as they left. It had been _fun_. _ _ _ _ _

_____When she’d checked her phone in the car on the way home, she heard that Foggy had texted her that they’d negotiated a plea deal, but when she’d gotten home, wine still staining the front of her dress, Foggy had told her that Castle had pled “not guilty.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“How did this happen?” she’d snapped._ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t know! One minute he was fine with the plea bargain, then he just said ‘not guilty!’”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Jesus, I knew he was a stubborn asshole, but -“_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh, you might have shared that with the rest of the class!”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I just meant that we managed to fight our way out from the Irish after he’d taken a drill to his foot!”_ _ _ _ _

_____“How was I supposed to know that? You weren’t there!” They were both breathing hard, recognizing the precipice that they needed to back away from._ _ _ _ _

_____“I will be there for him. And you,” she’d said._ _ _ _ _

_____She’d kept her word. She’d sat through every strategy meeting, every jury selection session. When Elektra had called her to go strongarm some linguistics professor to translate the ledger, she’d turned Elektra down. It was the night before her opening statement. Foggy’s strategy was to warm up the jury by having the pretty blind woman open (“I should be insulted,” Mattie had said.). It was a transparent play on their sympathies, but the depressing thing was that it would probably work._ _ _ _ _

_____They’d still been up, running through Mattie’s opening statement, when Elektra had appeared at the top of the stairs, bleeding from multiple wounds._ _ _ _ _

_____“Mattie,” she’d managed._ _ _ _ _

_____Mattie had caught her as she’d stumbled. They’d cleaned her up, debated calling Claire (Foggy pointed out that Claire was on night shifts these days), stitching the worst of the cuts, and decided that she was in no state to be moved, so that meant she would be on their couch for the foreseeable future._ _ _ _ _

_____“What happened?” Mattie had asked. “He was supposed to be a linguistics professor.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh, he was,” Elektra had said. “He translated the ledger. The Yakuza are getting deliveries to the train yard. One was tonight.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“So you went alone.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You said you were busy.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Mattie ducked her head. “What were the deliveries?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Dirt.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Dirt?”_ _ _ _ _

“Train car full of it. Enough to buckle the tracks. They’re _very_ protective of that dirt…” Elektra had curled up on the couch, and Foggy had draped a blanket over her.

_____Foggy had been very still when Mattie had climbed into bed._ _ _ _ _

_____“What is it?” she’d said, tucking herself against his side the way she normally did._ _ _ _ _

_____“You said I was the first person you told about…you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You were.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Then how does Elektra know about Daredevil?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“She guessed,” Mattie had said. “Before, when we were together, she…figured out a lot of it. Then when Daredevil came along, she put two and two together.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“She’s like you,” Foggy had said. “I should have known.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Mattie hadn’t had anything to say to that._ _ _ _ _

_____The opening statement had gone well. Mattie had concentrated on the jury; two of them were attracted to her (good), all of them listened attentively (very good), seven seemed receptive to her arguments (best of all). Foggy had squeezed her hand when she’d sat down._ _ _ _ _

_____“That was a pretty thick slice of bullshit, there counselor,” Frank had grunted._ _ _ _ _

_____“Thanks, Frank,” she’d said. She’d been smiling like a shark._ _ _ _ _

_____They’d stayed late at the office, going over cross-examination strategies. Elektra had been on the couch when they got home._ _ _ _ _

_____“I ordered Italian,” she called as they opened the door. “Also, you need more beer.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh, good, Elektra’s still here,” Foggy had deadpanned._ _ _ _ _

_____“Yeah, that was actually a concern,” Mattie had said._ _ _ _ _

_____Foggy and Elektra had actually managed to be civil to each other while Foggy had checked Elektra’s wounds. Foggy had even been interested when Elektra had told him about Roxxon’s construction work at 44th and 11th._ _ _ _ _

_____“That’s Elena’s old building,” Foggy had said. “Do you think Fisk is involved with this?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Hard to say now,” Mattie had said. “He had a falling out with the Yakuza, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t get their hands on some of his assets when he went down.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You found a blueprint, didn’t you? The night Nobu -“_ _ _ _ _

_____“Nobu Yoshioka?” Elektra had interrupted._ _ _ _ _

_____“You know him?” Mattie had said._ _ _ _ _

_____“Only by reputation.” Elektra had leaned forward, her fingertip brushing against Mattie’s chest. “I take it those are his handiwork?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yeah,” Mattie had said, brushing Elektra’s hand away. “I’ll check out the construction site tomorrow. _After_ I cross-examine Tepper.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Thank you,” Foggy had said tartly._ _ _ _ _

_____When she’d come to bed, Foggy had had more ideas about the next day’s cross-examination._ _ _ _ _

_____“Foggy, I can handle one crooked M.E.!” she’d said, more loudly than she should have._ _ _ _ _

_____Elektra had been gone in the morning. Neither of them had thought much of it._ _ _ _ _

_____Not until Tepper had fallen apart on the witness stand, babbling about a masked woman threatening him. Foggy had dragged her into the handicapped restroom and told her in ice-cold tones that she was no longer working on the case._ _ _ _ _

_____“It wasn’t me, I never touched Tepper!” she’d nearly shouted._ _ _ _ _

_____“Who the hell else runs around in a mask, Mattie?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“It - it was Elektra.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“What?! What the hell were you thinking?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I didn’t tell her anything about the trial! I didn’t sanction -”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You brought Elektra into this, this is on you!”_ _ _ _ _

_____“She must have moved on her own -“_ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t care! I don’t care, Mattie! You decided to stay involved with her, you decided to screw off with her while I was trying to save our client’s life! And now you’ve let her blow the one shot we had at taking down Reyes. You compromised everything we’re working for!” He’d pushed past her. “It’s getting dark. You’d better get going, you know, do the job you actually give a shit about.”_ _ _ _ _

“Foggy -“ 

“I won’t wait up.”

_____She’d nearly broken when he’d closed the door. Instead, there was a paper towel dispenser that was never going to be the same._ _ _ _ _

_____Foggy had stayed at the office with Karen while she’d gone home and changed into the Daredevil suit. Nothing had moved since the morning, so Elektra hadn’t come back. She went to the construction site at 44th and 11th alone, finding a hole so deep she couldn’t hear the bottom. She’d had to throw a brick in to determine that it was forty stories deep, and then it hadn’t mattered, because she was under attack._ _ _ _ _

She’d barely been able to fight them off, _shuriken_ flying at her, making more noise than her attackers. The sound of katanas on her clubs reflected off bodies, though, and she’d had to use that, blind except for the shapes in the echoes. She’d almost gotten away, too, except for the _shuriken_ that had buried itself in the muscle where her neck met her shoulder, just above the neckline of her armor. She’d ripped it out, thrown it back at one of the attackers, but she could smell something herbal, everything was flickering, and she thought she’d heard Stick’s voice, and Elektra’s.

_____Her right side was burning, and her body wasn’t obeying her anymore. She collapsed into the dirt, and Elektra was there, pleading with her to stay awake. Strong arms picked her up, and Stick was ordering them to get her to the car._ _ _ _ _

_____She’d screamed when they’d put her down in the car, and her head was in Elektra’s lap, and she had to make it back to Foggy, she always made it back to Foggy._ _ _ _ _

_____“Shh, don’t talk,” Elektra had said. “We’re taking you to him.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Breaking glass, and Mattie’s fist was clenched around an arrow inches from Elektra’s face._ _ _ _ _

_____“Ellie!” Stick had called._ _ _ _ _

_____“On it!” Elektra had said. She’d leaned out the broken window, punching at whoever was hanging off the car, then she’d been back. The sounds of arrows followed them through hard turns, then they were gone._ _ _ _ _

_____They’d carried her up to the roof, then down the stairs, and she could hear Foggy panicking, and she wanted to tell him it was all right. Instead, she’d screamed as they shifted her onto the bed._ _ _ _ _

_____“Franklin, I need you to get her out of that suit,” Elektra had said. “Focus. Can you do that?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yes.”_ _ _ _ _

_____And Stick had been barking orders for ingredients as Foggy undressed her, then her shoulder had been ripped open, tendrils of pain running through her veins, and she’d passed out._ _ _ _ _

_____She’d woken up to the sound of Foggy’s voice, raised in anger in the living room._ _ _ _ _

_____“God, any time she tries to build something for herself, you just try to tear her down!” he’d been shouting, and suddenly, everything made sense._ _ _ _ _

_____She was topless in bed, so she staggered to her feet and pulled one of Foggy’s shirts from the laundry, wrapping herself up in his scent._ _ _ _ _

_____“You think she’s going to be happy being Mrs Franklin Nelson?” Elektra had snapped. “You know what she is.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Mattie could barely keep herself upright, and she’d had to steady herself against the bedroom door. Foggy had turned, presumably when he’d seen Elektra notice her._ _ _ _ _

_____“Mattie, you shouldn’t be up -“_____

“Just tell me one thing, Elektra,” she’d said. “When we first met - was it fate? Was it luck? Or was I a mission?” 

_____“Mattie - “ Stick had started, but she’d held up her hand._ _ _ _ _

_____“Mission,” Elektra had said quietly._ _ _ _ _

_____Mattie had nodded. “Get out of our house,” she’d said, reaching out to Foggy, who put his arm around her waist._ _ _ _ _

_____“Mattie, I - I wasn’t lying to you, not about -“ Elektra had protested. “I did love you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You know,” Mattie had said, “I don’t even know what the truth sounds like coming from you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Stick had pulled Elektra away with a “Let’s go, Ellie.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Foggy had half-carried Mattie back to bed, laying her down on her side. He’d gotten into bed next to her, and let her rest her head on his chest._ _ _ _ _

_____“I’m sorry,” she’d said._ _ _ _ _

_____“I know, kitten.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You were right. I should have…I should have known not to get involved with her.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Foggy had sighed. “They’ve been manipulating you since you were ten.” It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet. She’d clenched her fist in his shirt, over his heart._ _ _ _ _

_____“Why are you so good to me?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Because I love you.” She hadn’t said anything to that. “I’m still mad at you,” he’d finished. Not a lie._ _ _ _ _

_____“I know. I’m sorry.”_ _ _ _ _

_____He’d tightened his arm around her, and she’d smelled saline._ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t know if I can keep this up,” he’d said._ _ _ _ _

_____She’d been too afraid to ask what he meant._ _ _ _ _

_____***_ _ _ _ _

_____“We can’t let them have the Black Sky,” Quinn snarls. “No matter the cost.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Mattie’s on her feet before anyone can stop her, her club across Quinn’s throat. Her lips curl into a snarl, but Elektra speaks before she can threaten him._ _ _ _ _

_____“You’re welcome to try to take me down,” Elektra drawls, her sai on display. “Anyone?”_ _ _ _ _

_____There’s a general shuffling and shaking of heads._ _ _ _ _

_____“Stick died to save her life,” Jacques says to Quinn, still pinned against the wall. “Are you willing to betray him so soon?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Quinn shakes his head, and Mattie steps back._ _ _ _ _

_____“Besides,” Jacques continues, “they want Daredevil, too.”_ _ _ _ _


	2. Flames Keep Getting Higher

“I’ll go,” Mattie says.

“No,” Elektra says.

“He’s right. Nobu set this trap for me. I can go out there, the rest of you can get away -“

“No.” Elektra says it with such force that the men take a step back. She turns to face them, the assembled forces of the Chaste.

 _Rag-tag little Island of Misfit Toys_ , Mattie can almost hear Stick say.

“Stick taught us all to rely on ourselves and no-one else,” Elektra says. “But Stick died alone. I won’t make that mistake.”

***

Mattie hadn’t been able to get out of bed for two days. Foggy would come home and tell her how the trial went.

“Schoonover did really well against Reyes.”

“I think we really got somewhere with the sympathetic storming diagnosis.”

Karen had come over to discuss Foggy’s closing arguments, and had tried to convince him to put Frank on the stand.

“Don’t do that,” Mattie had said, leaning against the bedroom door.

“I thought you were off this case,” Karen had snapped.

“Officially, she’s on medical leave,” Foggy had said, helping her into the living room. “OK, why not?”

“Because he’s a contrary son of a bitch?” Mattie had said. “The last time you needed him to say something, he couldn’t manage a guilty plea.”

“This - this isn’t the same,” Karen had said. “If we can get the jury to listen to him, to hear what he has to say -“

“And what happens when Reyes cross-examines him?” Mattie had interrupted. “You really think that’ll end well?”

“But - what you said he told you -“

“He told to someone who had just saved his life. I’d…earned it, in his mind.”

“I’m with Mattie,” Foggy had said. “He’s too unpredictable. Reyes will tear him apart on cross.”

“But -“ Karen had protested.

“He doesn’t need to have his say. He just needs us to win.”

After Karen had left and Foggy had come to bed, Mattie had asked if he wanted her to be there for his closing arguments.

“Yeah,” he’d said. “Yeah, I do.”

She’d sat behind Foggy in the morning, listening to the raucous crowd as Frank was led in. As he’d sat down, she’d heard one of the bailiffs whisper, “Think about what you want, Frank.”

Her mind had been racing, trying to figure out what the bailiff meant, as Foggy told the judge that the defense rests, when Frank had leapt to his feet.

“I want to make a statement,” he’d said.

“Sit down, Mr Castle -“

“All those people - the ones I put down, the ones I killed -“

“Mr Nelson, please control your client.”

“I want you to know that I’d do it all again -“

It had all escalated from there: Frank, Judge Batzer, Foggy, the crowd, everyone shouting over each other. The bailiffs had tried to restrain Frank, who had lashed out at them. Foggy had dragged Karen away from the table, which was when Frank had broken from one of the bailiffs’ grip, and lunged at Mattie.

He’d gotten a hand around her arm and pulled her against the railing between them, so close she could feel his stubble against her cheek, and whispered “Hey, Red” in her ear before the bailiffs had separated them. Foggy had held her as Frank was dragged from the courtroom, still shouting.

“You OK?” Foggy had repeated several times before she’d been able to answer him.

She could only shake her head in answer.

Foggy had tried to stick to his prepared closing arguments, but they’d lost the jury before he’d even started. Reyes’ closing statement had been brutal and short, highlighting how Frank Castle was a danger, “even to those trying to help him.” The jury’s deliberations had taken half an hour. Sentencing had only taken a little longer, and Frank Castle was on his way to Ryker’s, serving consecutive life sentences.

Karen had been crushed, and had hurried away to be on her own. Foggy had taken Mattie home, and she’d been undressing when Ben had called, asking for a statement, and Foggy had sighed.

“I don’t know…”

“Are you going to appeal?” Ben had said.

“I…need to consult with my client before making any decisions.”

“Your client, who attacked your wife in the courtroom today?”

“Ben…”

“I have to ask.”

“Neither myself nor Mattie have made any decisions yet regarding continuing our representation of Frank Castle.”

“Is she OK?”

“Is that Ben Urich, reporter, asking, or our friend Ben?”

“It’ll be off the record.”

“She’s a little shaken up, but she’s fine.”

“Thanks, Foggy.”

“Yeah, man.”

He’d hung up as Mattie had eased herself into bed in her camisole and underwear.

“You want a drink?” he’d said. “I want a drink.”

“I’m not sure I should be drinking…not sure what kind of crap Stick poured into me.”

There was a clink of glass as Foggy poured himself a drink.

“Yeah, it was kind of gross. There was toilet bowl cleaner involved,” he said.

“Thought I smelled that.”

“And…baking soda. And whiskey. And something else.”

“Sounds like the worst cocktail ever.”

“Yeah,” Foggy had said heavily. “‘Ninja poison antidote.’ Never really caught on at the frat parties.”

She’d heard the bowstring first.

“Foggy!” she’d screamed, launching herself out of bed. Foggy had turned when she’d screamed, and the arrow had taken him through the shoulder, not through the heart. She’d bowled him over, hoping the horrible snapping sound was the arrow breaking, then thrown herself at his attacker, breaking the bow with a kick, twisting to avoid the katana. She’d kept herself between the ninja and Foggy, letting the devil out, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, ignoring everything except the fact that they had _dared_ to hurt Foggy.

She’d finally gotten the ninja in a sleeper hold, and he’d passed out, and she’d scrambled to Foggy. She’d smelled the same herbal scent that had been on the _shuriken_ that had poisoned her, and she’d known that she couldn’t save him on her own.

She’d been nearly hysterical by the time Elektra had picked up her phone, and had barely been able to put together a full sentence. Ten minutes later, Elektra and Stick had rushed in to find her sobbing with Foggy’s head in her lap.

“He’s still alive,” she’d gasped out. “You have to save him.”

“Get out of the way, Mattie,” Stick had snapped.

Elektra had already gathered up the ingredients in her arms, from where Foggy had left them when they’d used them on Mattie.

“Gonna need some pliers, too,” Stick had said.

Mattie had rushed to the kitchen and thrown them to Stick, who had caught them midair. He’d yanked the arrow out of Foggy’s shoulder and poured in the mixture that Elektra had put together, while Elektra had held Mattie. Mattie had whispered the Lord’s Prayer under her breath.

“Listen to his heart,” Elektra whispered. “Focus…Focus…”

Foggy’s heart had slowed and steadied, until Stick was pressing a bandage to the wound.

“He’ll make it,” he’d said. He’d jerked his head towards the unconscious ninja, and Elektra had nodded as Mattie had scrambled to Foggy’s side, clutching his hand. Mattie had barely registered the knife in Elektra’s hand, barely had time to shout “No!” before the knife slashed, and there was a new pool of blood on the floor.

“You didn’t have to do that!” Mattie had cried, grabbing the front of Stick’s shirt and forcing him backwards.

“He’d have brought more of his little ninja friends, and then that husband of yours would be as dead as if we’d left that arrow in him,” Stick had growled.

“We should get this cleaned up,” Elektra had said, pulling out her phone. She’d put her hand on Mattie’s shoulder. “Get Franklin into the bedroom.”

Stick and Mattie had carried Foggy into the bedroom, while Elektra’s mysterious cleaning crew had arrived and started scrubbing the living room. Mattie had sat on the bed, holding Foggy’s hand, while Stick had stood at the foot.

“Tell me,” she’d said.

He’d told her about the Hand, and resurrection and Black Skies. About the Chaste, and the war that was coming to Hell’s Kitchen. She’d wished Foggy was awake to hear it, so he could tell her how ridiculous it all was. But sitting there, with the scent of blood and cleaning chemicals in her nose, it had all seemed to be closing in on her.

She had heard Elektra’s cleaners moving the body. Just a boy.

Stick had slipped out; she could hear him talking to Elektra, then following the cleaners out. Mattie had brushed her hand over Foggy’s face, leaning down to kiss him.

She’d run her hands through her hair, tugging at the tangles, and had pulled on a pair of pants before stepping out.

“You look awful,” Elektra had said, and Mattie had thought it might be real concern in her voice.

“Yeah, the ninja home invasion’ll do that,” Mattie had said. The silence had stretched between them, filled only with heartbeats and breathing. “So this…this is who you are.”

“Yes.”

Mattie had nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is what you wanted me to be.” She’d thought of rides in stolen sports cars, of sex in the ring at Fogwell’s, of broken doors and windows and bones.

“It’s what Stick wanted you to be,” Elektra had said. “I just wanted you.”

Mattie had scoffed. “I thought Stick didn’t approve of attachments.”

Elektra had paused. “I was supposed to distract you. Make you forget about your friends…your city.”

“He was right.”

“No…because I did the one thing he didn’t expect. I fell in love with you, Matilda.”

“How heteronormative of him.”

Elektra had chuckled. “He knew about me…knew I liked women. He just didn’t know about you.” Her hand had brushed against Mattie’s hair, tucking a lock back.

“Why did you leave?” Mattie could still remember how it had felt, like she’d do anything for Elektra.

Elektra’s hand had dropped away. “I had it all planned out,” she’d said, her voice getting harder and brighter. “I knew just how to push you. I even found that bastard who killed your father.”

“Sweeney.”

“Thought I’d take you there, have a little _fun_.”

Mattie’s stomach had dropped at the thought, what she might have done if she’d ever had the Fixer in her grasp.

“So why didn’t you?” she’d said.

“Your birthday. Do you remember? I could have given you _anything_ you wanted.” Mattie had remembered, the way Elektra had stretched out that word when she’d been twenty, the way it had seemed to curl down her spine and settle between her legs. “And you wanted to spend it with _him_ ,” Elektra had finished quietly.

“This is about Foggy?”

“When it comes to you, it’s always about him. And that was when I realized, it didn’t matter what I could convince you to do. You’d never love me the way you love him. And you would always go back to him.”

Mattie had listened to Foggy’s heartbeat, slow with sleep.

“You were right,” she’d said.

They’d been silent, for a moment.

“I do need your help,” Elektra had said. “That wasn’t a lie.”

“Stick told me. The Hand, your war.” She’d shaken her head. “This isn’t the way to do it, ‘Lektra. You _murdered_ a boy on my living room floor, and you _enjoyed_ it.”

“Yes.” Mattie could feel Elektra’s breath against her skin. She stepped back.

“That’s not who I am,” Mattie had said. “I won’t be one of Stick’s soldiers.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Elektra had said.

“Tell Stick to stay out of my way.”

“They’ll kill you. They’ll kill _him_.” Elektra’s arm had waved in the direction of the bedroom. “They will decimate your city.”

“Not if I stop them first.”

Elektra had left, then, brushing a kiss against her cheek.

She’d managed to sleep, and when Foggy had woken up, she’d brought him a bagel and a cup of coffee in bed. She’d told him everything that had happened, and he’d sighed heavily.

“What are we going to do, Mattie?” he’d said.

“Well, first thing I’m going to do is find Stan Gibson - he’s the accountant -“ 

“No, I mean what are _we_ going to do?”

She’d suddenly felt that knot in her stomach, hard and heavy.

“What do you mean?” she’d said.

“Jesus, Mattie, we just _lost_ the trial. We’ve officially committed professional suicide. Reyes is never going to forgive us, and -“

“And what?”

She could hear his jaw working.

“When we - when we took down Fisk, you asked me what I wanted,” he’d said. “This isn’t it.” She hadn’t been able to say anything, so he’d kept going. “Daredevil, I can handle. But I can’t handle it coming over into our lives, into our work, our careers. I can’t…I don’t…I don’t think you know how hard it is, being your partner _and_ your husband. And if I have to choose…”

“Yeah,” she’d whispered. “It’s not a choice.”

He’d sighed, leaning his head back against the headboard. “We don’t…let’s not make any decisions, not right now. But I think we should shutter the office for a few weeks.” He’d swallowed. “You need to take care of your ninja problem. And I…”

“Need to think about your future,” she’d finished.

Stan Gibson had folded like a cheap suit and led her to the Farm, where Nobu had been waiting.

“You’re dead,” she’d panted.

“There is no such thing,” he’d said.

She’d still been reeling from the revelation (or maybe it had been the kick to the ribs) when she’d sent Brett and the victims to Metro General, and tried to explain the situation to Claire. She’d been mid-explanation when she’d heard the police radios announce Frank Castle’s escape, and torn off home to find Foggy. He’d levered himself up off the bed with a groan.

“What are you doing?” she’d said.

“Going into the office,” he’d said. “Castle’s transfer documents should have been sent there yesterday.”

“You’re not going to run around with a hole in your shoulder.”

“Pot, kettle…”

She’d gone with him to the office, mostly to make sure he stayed upright, and the transfer documents had been sitting there in a sealed envelope. She’d listened to Foggy gripe about how Reyes was going to try to pin the escape on them.

“…they were burying him in their highest security control unit, along with all the other rockstars on Cellblock D -“

“Cellblock D?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, I like to keep track of people who might want to kill us.”

“Like the Punisher?”

“No. Wilson Fisk.” She’d started pacing. “Before Castle torpedoed the trial, I heard a guard tell him to think about what he wanted.”

“You think Fisk sent him?”

“Castle blows the trial, gets sent to Fisk’s cellblock, and a day later he’s out on the streets?”

“Those are two very separate dots -“

“And Castle knows about me.”

That had stopped him in his tracks.

“Mattie -“

They’d been interrupted by a pair of NYPD officers, escorting them to the courthouse to see Reyes. Karen had been waiting, and they’d been led through the layers of security one by one. Reyes had lost her bluster, reduced to begging for their help finding Castle, letting Tower fill in the blanks of the coverup of Castle’s family’s deaths, before Mattie had heard the telltale sound of an assault rifle’s safety being pulled back.

“Get down,” she’d breathed.

Foggy had been sitting between her and Karen, and she’d pulled him down to the floor when the windows had shattered and the smell of blood had filled the air. He’d grabbed Karen’s arm, and they’d all landed together in a heap, sheltered by Reyes’ desk. Mattie had screamed when Foggy had thrown himself across her and his weight had hit her ribs, but the sound had been lost in the gunfire.

Then the shooting had stopped, and there had only been four heartbeats in the room.

It had taken an excruciatingly long time for the police to take their statements, then Mattie, Foggy and Karen had fled before the paramedics could look at them too closely. Karen had pulled them into a Starbucks outside the police cordon, declaring that they needed to stop and think.

“I have to find him,” Mattie had said as Karen had dropped three coffees onto the table.

“How?” Foggy had said. “The police have his whereabouts narrowed down to the island of Manhattan.”

“I know where to start.”

“What? No.”

“What’s going on?” Karen had said. “What aren’t you two telling me?”

“Castle knows about Mattie,” Foggy had said.

“Wha - how?”

“I - I don’t know,” Mattie had said.

“Yeah, but how do you know?” Foggy had said.

“When he grabbed me, in the courtroom. He called me Red.” Both Foggy and Karen had shaken their heads. “It’s what he calls me. In the suit.”

“So you think he’s after you?” Karen had said.

“No, I doubt _he_ is. But…Wilson Fisk isn’t too happy with me. And Castle was on the same cellblock.”

“You think Frank - no, he wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t sell you out to Fisk,” Karen had said. “Not after you saved him from the Irish.”

“Karen, how many people do you think have the power to engineer a jailbreak from one of the most secure prisons in the state?”

The answer, of course, is very few. Even fewer can do it from inside the prison. And only one has the power to not only engineer the escape of a notorious mass murderer, but to control a prison so completely that he can choke his visitor while a guard stands outside.

There had been blood in her mouth from where her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek when Fisk had backhanded her across the face, and Fisk had scoffed at the “boxer’s daughter” when the side of Mattie’s fist collided with his cheekbone as she fought against his grip on her throat. Her nails had caught his cheek, a desperate, flailing attempt to break his hold.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” he’d growled as she’d climbed to her feet from where he’d thrown her to the floor.

At home, Foggy had been livid that she’d provoked Fisk. She didn’t tell him how terrified she’d been to hear his name cross Fisk’s lips.

“How’s Claire?” she’d said instead. She’d asked Foggy to check on Claire at the hospital while she was out at Ryker’s.

“Fine,” he’d snapped. He’d swallowed. “I saw the patients. The ones you saved. They look half-dead.”

“Yeah.” She’d started pulling off her clothes. “I should get over there.”

“ _She will call you_ if there’s trouble. And she said she knows someone who owes her a favor who can help, so will you just sit down and eat something and get some rest for a few hours?”

It had lasted three hours before Claire had called.

“Your friend’s here,” Claire had said.

“My friend?” There had been several possibilities, none of them pleasant.

“Asian girl? Sorry, uh, French accent?”

“Elektra. I’m on my way.”

She’d found Elektra on Metro General’s roof.

“They’re coming, aren’t they?” Mattie had said.

“If I found them, the Hand won’t be far behind.”

“Stick here?”

“No.”

Mattie had nodded. “Then we do this my way. No killing.”

“You may not have a choice.”

“I mean it.”

“Fine. But don’t expect the Hand to show you the same courtesy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They’d sat down next to each other, listening to the city.

“You know,” Elektra had said, “I didn’t mention it before, but your BDSM tailor is much better than mine.”

“I’ll tell him you said that,” Mattie had said. “Actually, I can give you his number. He needs clients that can actually pay him. I’m sure he can make any kinky shit you dream up.”

“Please,” Elektra had said dismissively, “your definition of kinky is light bondage.”

“You have missed so much in the past couple of years.”

They’d laughed, then, companionably.

“Someone’s coming,” Mattie had said, putting on her helmet. She could hear them, Claire with two other women, coming up the stairs.

“Right over there,” Claire had said, opening the door.

Mattie had recognized one of the women, but couldn’t place her. She’d smelled of old bourbon and leather. The other woman smelled of expensive skin care products and spa treatments.

“Jesus,” the bourbon-smelling woman had snorted when she’d come around the corner to see Mattie and Elektra. “Didn’t know there was a kinky dress code.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Mattie had said.

“Right, uh, Jessica and Trish, these are…” Claire had trailed off.

“She’s Daredevil, and I’m Elektra,” Elektra had said.

“I think we’ve met,” the nice-smelling woman, Trish, had said in a familiar voice. Then she’d snapped her fingers. “Elektra _Natchios_ , right? We met at the gala for…what was it?”

“Refugees. Or the Red Cross. Something virtuous,” Elektra had said, extending her hand. “Always a pleasure,” she’d purred. Mattie had rolled her eyes under the mask.

“Seriously?” Jessica had said. “So did you need a favor, or are you just setting up a lesbian dating service?”

“Hey, you were the one who decided to bring your friend,” Claire had said. “But M - Daredevil’s the one who knows what’s going on.”

Mattie hadn’t needed to be able to see to know that she had four pairs of eyes on her.

“There are five patients downstairs in the wing that’s being renovated. They were being held hostage by a group called the Hand, being drained of blood.”

“There’s more,” Claire had interrupted. “Tox screens came back, and they read like cheap science fiction. The lab couldn’t identify half of what was in their bodies, and some of the doctors were theorizing that they were being used to incubate…something.”

“Incubate?” Trish had said. “Incubate what?”

“Nothing good,” Elektra had said.

“Whatever it is, the Hand will want it back. Elektra and I are pretty sure they’re coming to retrieve the patients. And we have to stop them.”

“Right, well, let’s do it,” Trish had said. There had been a metallic snapping noise as she’d extended a nightstick, and Mattie had finally placed Trish’s voice. She’d stopped herself from exclaiming that this was _Trish Walker. Patsy._

Elektra had hopped lightly off the table they’d been sitting on.

“Love a girls’ night out,” she’d chirped, heading for the door to the stairs.

“Yeah, let’s hold off on the bellinis until we deal with the ninja situation,” Mattie had said.

“Wait, _ninjas_?” Jessica had said. “What the hell?”

Claire had just sighed. “Yep. That’s about right.”

They’d waited. Mattie and Jessica had been forced to endure Elektra and Trish flirting for over an hour until Mattie had heard Stan Gibson’s voice being cut off abruptly.

“Something’s happening,” she’d said.

“Why don’t we go have a look?” Elektra had said, and she and Trish had disappeared down the stairs.

“She always like that?” Jessica had said as the door closed.

“That’s Elektra behaving herself,” Mattie had said. She’d cocked an ear to the patients downstairs, but no-one was speaking. Then -

“Black Sky,” someone said, in a tone of awe. The two words had rippled through four other voices.

“Gibson’s dead. Get down here, now,” Elektra had said, not raising her voice.

“We have to go,” Mattie had said, tearing down the stairs with Jessica at her heels.

Then it had been a confusion of shouting and fighting and glass breaking. Claire had been yanked out a window, and Mattie had barely turned to jump after her when Jessica had launched herself out, and Mattie had heard them land softly on the concrete below. Jessica had appeared at the window a second later, climbing in and tossing a ninja out over her shoulder with one hand.

Trish’s nightstick had been sheared off by a katana, so she’d gotten in close quarters, knees and elbows jabbing, breaking joints and disarming the ninjas. Elektra had positioned herself close to Trish, fighting back to back. When she’d dropped a ninja to the ground, he’d looked up at her and whispered, again, “Black Sky.”

 _Stick is going to have a lot of questions to answer_ , Mattie had thought.

Jessica had swung an entire gurney, taking out three ninjas. Mattie had had her own hands full, parrying katanas and trying to keep the patients back, who seemed determined to reach the ninjas. One had tried to stab her with a scalpel. One more she owed Melvin.

But you can’t protect someone who doesn’t want to be protected, and the patients had gotten past Mattie to the Hand’s ninjas. Jessica had clotheslined one with an arm across her face, knocking the girl to the ground, but the other four had leapt with open arms into the clutches of the Hand and disappeared so that even Mattie couldn’t follow them.

Jessica had landed on the rooftop next to Mattie.

“They’re gone,” Mattie had said.

“Yeah. ‘Cause… _ninjas_.”

It had been hard to argue with the logic.

Elektra had tried to take the unconscious patient back to Stick. Claire had refused, and Elektra had left in a huff.

“The rest of you better get out of here before someone sees you,” Claire had said as Jessica lifted the girl onto a gurney. There had been a dead nurse on the floor, her blood filling Mattie’s nose.

“Claire -“ Mattie had said.

“Just admit, you’re in over your head. There’s no shame in that.”

Mattie couldn’t, so she’d left instead.

She’d barely woken up when Foggy had leaned over her and told her he was meeting Marci for lunch. She’d had no idea how long she kept sleeping before Foggy was shaking her awake.

“Ben called me,” he’d said. “Someone attacked Karen last night.”

She’d sat straight up in bed.

“Is she OK?”

“She’s fine, she’s with the cops. They’re saying it was Castle.” His heartbeat had faltered, the way it does when he’s holding something back.

“But?”

“Karen doesn’t think it was Castle. She told Ben that he saved her.”

“So who -“

“The Blacksmith. _Apparently_ , Karen and Ben have been investigating him and the Central Park massacre.”

Mattie had climbed off the bed, ignoring her usual aches and pains. “We should go help Karen,” she’d said.

“She’s under police protection. She’s…better off than she’d be with us.”

Mattie had buried her head in her hands.

“Is Ben in danger?” she’d said.

“I don’t know.”

Later, after she’d brooded on how to keep Ben and Karen safe, she’d remembered that Foggy had been to lunch with Marci.

“How’s Marci?” she’d said, and his heartbeat had leapt. Guilt.

“Fine,” he’d said truthfully. She’d waited. He’d caved. “She wants to set up a meeting. For me.”

“With who?”

“She didn’t say. But she said that people…liked the case we built. For the defense. And the closing statement, even if it was sort of completely undermined by our own client.”

“It was a good case,” she’d said quietly. “You were…” She’d caught herself before her voice could falter. “You should take the meeting.”

“You’re sure?” It hadn’t been a question, not really.

“Yeah.”

 _So this is how dreams die._ But given the choice between their firm and their marriage, she’d choose their marriage every time. And Foggy deserved this chance, deserved better than her.

Foggy had relaxed enough to ask her what had happened at the hospital, and had told her in no uncertain terms that she should get Jessica and Trish’s numbers.

“This isn’t _Charlie’s Angels_ ,” she’d groaned.

“You need people who can keep you alive, and the Avengers don’t seem to be interested.”

As much as Foggy would have liked, she hadn’t tried to call Trish Walker to go with her when she shook down Blake Tower for information on the Blacksmith. Tower had led her to Chinatown, and the old woman called Gao. Part of Fisk’s crew last year, but since the Kingpin’s arrest, her territories had been scaled back. Now Mattie knew why.

Gao hadn’t seemed in a particularly vicious mood, and had practically leapt at the opportunity to undermine her rival, sending Mattie to the piers to find the Blacksmith’s supply ship. In the end, she hadn’t needed to find the ship. She’d just needed to follow the sound of Frank Castle’s heart. And the sound of gunfire.

Daredevil and the Punisher. There was an inevitability, whenever they met, of raining blows and throwing themselves against the other’s deepest, most rooted beliefs. But because he’d saved Karen, because Ben was in danger, because putting Fisk away had done nothing, and because Foggy had wanted to save this man, she’d offered to do it his way. Just this once.

“No, no, no, no, no, Red, that’s - that’s not how it works,” he’d said, and he’d just sounded…tired. And sad. “It’s just - you cross over to my side of the line, you don’t get to come back from that.”

She’d wanted to say, “I know.” She’d wanted to say that she loved someone who couldn’t come back from that. She’d wanted to say that maybe crossing the line would be easier.

But the Blacksmith’s men had arrived, and Castle had thrown her overboard before the ship could blow, and by the time she’d surfaced, Castle’s heartbeat had disappeared.

She’d stumbled home in a daze, and barely registered the new presence in the living room until she was at the bottom of the stairs.

“You look like shit,” Claire had said.

“Claire? What are you doing here?”

“Came looking for a drinking buddy.” 

Mattie had noted the smell of whiskey in the air.

“Claire quit her job,” Foggy had said.

“ _Somebody_ spread around a lot of cash to cover up what happened last night,” Claire had said. “Wanted me to say Louisa was killed by a junkie, end of story.”

“What about the girl, the patient, the one Jessica knocked out?” Mattie had said.

Claire had shrugged. “Last I saw, they were cuffing her to the bed before she woke up.”

Mattie had groaned and rushed into the bedroom for her real phone.

“What are you doing?” Foggy had called.

“Calling Elektra. We need to get that girl out of there.”

“Right,” Claire had said. “You do that. I’m gonna go up to Harlem and see my mom and not think about superpowers and zombie ninjas for a couple of weeks while I reexamine my life.”

“Claire -“ Mattie had started, but Elektra had picked up the call.

“Take care of yourself,” Claire had said as she left.

It had been almost morning when Mattie had met Elektra on the roof of Metro General, this time dressed in a hoodie and jeans. They’d prowled the halls, trying to find the girl, but she was gone.

“There's a diner across the street. Let’s see if they have pie,” Elektra had said.

“What is with you and pie?” Mattie had asked, after they’d ordered a slice for Elektra and a coffee for Mattie.

“Nothing quite like New York diner pie. I’ve missed it.” Elektra had shrugged. “Not like I could come back. Worried I’d run into you.”

“Where did you go, Elektra?” Mattie had said quietly.

“As far from you as I could.”

“And did you find whatever it was you were looking for?”

“Mostly I found…I was alone.”

The waitress had dropped the pie and coffee on the table, then, and Elektra had picked up her fork when Mattie had grabbed her wrist.

“The bell over the door - “ she’d said, “ - who came in?”

“Two men.”

“They’re Hand,” Mattie had said. She couldn’t hear _them_ , just the movements around them. Then she’d heard - “There are more in the kitchen. Don’t know how many. The cook and the dishwasher are dead.” Her voice was shaking.

Elektra had shifted her grip on her fork. “Do you remember, that story I told you, back in college?” she said evenly as they were surrounded. “About wolves in the night?”

“You told me it was a Greek fairy tale.” Mattie had slid her hand under her hoodie, gripping the clubs at her spine.

“Girls in red, all alone in the woods, about to get eaten up,” Elektra had said.

“Wolves and girls,” Mattie had said.

“Both have sharp teeth,” Elektra had finished. 

She threw the fork, and the first ninja fell backwards, gurgling from the wound in his throat. The other diners started screaming, and Mattie had had to throw herself over the counter to stop one of the ninjas coming from the kitchen from grabbing the waitress as a hostage. In the narrow space, only one could come after Mattie, and the other three had piled on Elektra, and Mattie had heard her cry out before she’d slumped into their arms. Mattie had tried to go after them as they carried Elektra out through the kitchen, but the one fighting her kept her at bay, silent as a ghost, then fled out the front. She’d run out into the alley, but there had been no sign of Elektra.

“Foggy, where the hell is the subway map?!” she’d practically shouted over the phone.

“At the office, and where are you?”

“I’m _at_ the office, but I can’t find it!” Everything had felt like regular paper.

“It’s probably in _your_ office, and I’m coming down,” he’d sighed.

She’d found it in the filing cabinet behind Karen’s desk, and had almost ripped it in half when she’d opened it. She’d been tracing routes around Metro General when Foggy had appeared.

“Thought Elektra’d be here,” he’d said.

“They took her,” she’d said. “The Hand. They must have seen us at the hospital.”

“Oh.” He’d let the moment stretch out. “So…what’s with the map?”

“Every time I’ve run into them, they’ve been able to appear and disappear, like…magic. I thought they might be using the subway tunnels.”

“Only if they’re idiots,” Foggy had said. He’d told her about the old railway tunnels. “Forget magic. Look for manhole covers.”

“I thought your greatest fear was me falling down one of those.”

“Used to be, but it’s moved down the list.” He’d put his hand over hers. “You’ll find her,” he’d said, and the thread she’d been hanging by had broken. She’d cried into his shirt, all her guilt at being a terrible wife, a terrible friend, a terrible lawyer, and a terrible vigilante pouring out of her. When she’d finished, Foggy had taken her into his office to grab the tissues off his desk.

“Feel better?” he’d said, holding the box out to her.

“Actually, yes,” she’d said. She’d blown her nose, and leaned against the wall. “I’m sorry, Foggy. For everything. For…” She’d waved her hand at the office. “This.”

“Do you want me to stay?” he’d said.

 _Yes._ “I want you to take that meeting,” she’d said. “I want you to kill it when you do.” She’d even managed a smile. “And I want you to keep me in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed.”

“Dangerous and underpaid?” She could hear his smile, and he’d brushed his hand against her hair.

“Yeah. I have very low standards.”

“I know,” he’d said. “You married me.”

“I got the better end of that one,” she’d said. He’d been so close, and she’d felt so far away from him for so long, that all she could think to do was kiss him.

He’d kissed her back, gently at first, then she’d pulled him against her until he was pinning her against the wall. She’d tugged him tighter against her, wanting him, wanting to tell him how much she loved him, until her hands were on his skin under his shirt. He’d tried to mumble something, but she’d kept kissing him, undoing his pants and sliding her hand in, and he’d reciprocated. It hadn’t taken long for them to get each other off, until they were leaning on each other for support, foreheads pressed together, surrounded by the remnants of the dreams they’d lost.

Stick had been waiting for them when they’d arrived at home. He’d been furious when Mattie had told him Elektra had been kidnapped.

“We’re going to find her,” Mattie had said.

“Damn right, we are,” Stick had snapped. “Otherwise, it’s the end of the war you don’t believe in.”

They’d descended into the tunnels below Metro General. It had taken less than an hour for the first group of ninjas to find them. They’d fought them off easily, but the ninjas had disappeared back into the silence, dropping their weapons. Stick had grabbed her shoulder.

“Go deeper, kid,” he’d whispered. “Track their breath.”

She’d heard it - an exhale in exertion, down at the end of a tunnel. They’d raced off after it, pausing for Mattie to listen for the next lead, the next breadcrumb, until she’d heard Elektra’s familiar heartbeat. They’d had to fight through two more groups of ninjas before they’d burst in to where Elektra was tied to a chair.

“You came,” Elektra had said as Stick had sliced the ropes off her.

“Of course we did,” Mattie had said.

Elektra had reached out, stroking Mattie’s cheek. Then she’d kicked Mattie square in the chest, launching herself out of the chair with her hand around Stick’s throat.

“They told me,” Elektra had said. “They told me what I am. You _knew_.”

“Yes, child, I knew,” Stick had drawled. He’d let Elektra back him up against the wall.

“You told me I was out of control,” she’d growled.

“Elektra,” Mattie had said, “whatever they told you, it’s a trick, an illusion.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Elektra had said. “I am the Black Sky.”

“Yes, it’s true,” Stick had said.

 _Stick kills Black Skies._ A cold, heavy lump had settled in Mattie’s stomach when she realized Stick had no intention of leaving Elektra behind alive.

If Elektra hadn’t had Stick backed against the wall, Mattie would probably have done it herself.

“Elektra, you can beat up Stick all you want, I will help you do it, but we have to go, now, before -“

She’d felt the thin line of the katana blade across her throat before she’d even known the Hand were there.

“The old man, and the loyal one,” Nobu had said. “This is what you cling to?”

“They came for _me_ ,” Elektra had snapped, releasing Stick. “Let her go.”

“The Black Sky is your destiny,” Nobu had said. “They tried to take that from you, tried to kill it inside you. Denied what you are.”

“Elektra -“ Mattie had started, but the tip of the katana had pressed just under her jaw.

“You’re right,” Elektra had said, stepping forward.

“Ellie -“ Stick had tried, before she backhanded him across the face.

“You just can't stand that I’ve outgrown you,” she’d snapped. “All my life, you’ve tried to control me.”

“Didn’t work.”

Mattie had heard the hiss of a blade sliding from its sheath.

“I’m _done_ with old men deciding what’s best for me,” Elektra had said, addressing the room. “You tell me that this is my destiny?”

Mattie had held her breath.

“Yes,” Nobu had said.

Mattie had bent backwards, away from the katana, arching her back until her hands hit the floor, and she sprang into a flip. Elektra had buried the knife she’d taken from Stick in Nobu’s chest.

“I make my own destiny, you piece of shit,” Elektra had said.

The rest of the ninjas had attacked them, and it was three against…too many. Too many weapons, too many breaths. Elektra had fought double-handed, knife in one hand and Nobu’s katana in the other, while Stick had cut through ninjas like butter, and there had still been too many. Even when they’d made it to the door to the tunnels, the ninjas had still pursued them, appearing from nowhere.

They’d slid down a ladder, and Mattie had used her nose to tell them which direction to go, and Stick had said, “Get her out of here, Mattie.”

Both Elektra and Mattie had turned to face him.

“No, you can’t -“ Mattie had said.

“I can, and I will, so are you going to waste time arguing, or are you gonna live?”

“Stick -“

“Get out of here, punk. And kick their asses when they find you.”

They’d left him, waiting at the bottom of the ladder. They’d only been two turns away when she’d heard the fighting.

“He’s gone,” she’d said.

“Then let’s get out of here,” Elektra had said quietly.

They’d emerged from the tunnels at 49th and 10th, and Elektra had led her to some sort of old bookshop. Three men had been waiting in the basement. Fighters, all of them.

“Stick is dead,” Elektra had announced as they descended.

“And you are?” one of them had said in a French accent.

“It’s Elektra,” another had said. “And Murdock.”

“What happened?” the third one had said. “Stick said you were going to find one of the Hand’s sacrifices.”

“We didn’t,” Elektra had snapped. “The Hand found us and grabbed me. Stick and Matilda came after me.”

“And now Stick is dead,” the Frenchman had said. Something in the way he said it had made the words hit Mattie. She hadn’t believed it, not until that moment. She’d thought the old bastard would live forever out of pure spite.

“He was covering our escape,” Mattie had said.

The three men had shifted uneasily, three boats lost at sea.

“The Hand are coming,” Elektra had said. “They already have wealth and influence, and now…”

“They know where the Black Sky is,” one of the Americans had said.

“So you know,” Elektra had said.

“Stick told us.” The American had unsheathed his sword. “He told us to kill you if there was any chance of the Hand taking you.”

“Quinn,” the Frenchman had said. “If that were the case, Elektra would never have left the Hand. _N’est-ce pas_?”

“ _C’est vrai_ ," Elektra had said. "The war is here. They will come for me, and I do not intend to wait for that to happen. I will take down every one of those arseholes who thought they could use me. So you can either help me, or get out of this city.”

“This is a trick. You’d lead us into a trap,” the third one, the one not French or named Quinn, had said.

“It’s not a trick,” Mattie had said.

“I killed Nobu Yoshioka,” Elektra had said. “The Hand here are leaderless, just as we are. But we have the advantage: we have a purpose. We strike _now_ , when they are vulnerable, and we push them out.” She’d shouldered her way through the men, to the wooden case mounted on the wall. She’d opened it, and Mattie could hear the ring of metal as she pulled two weapons from the case. “Who’s with me?”

“Those are _my_ sai,” the Frenchman had said.

“Take them from me,” Elektra had tossed back.

There had been a pause. “I always liked the kamas better,” the Frenchman had said, amusement in his voice. He’d nodded. “I’m with you.”

“Even if we can trust you,” Quinn had said, “how can the four of us take on the Hand?”

“Five,” Mattie had said.

“What did Stick tell you, when he found you?” Elektra had said. “That you have a gift? The kind very few people have or deserve?”

“We all got that speech,” Mattie had said.

“I was eleven. Matilda?”

“Ten.”

“Fourteen,” the third one had said.

“Eight,” the Frenchman had said.

“Fifteen,” Quinn had admitted.

“All those years. Our entire lives, spent becoming the best fighters, the best _killers_ in the world. It’s time the Hand learned what that means.” She’d flipped a sai in her hand. “They want the Black Sky. They’ll find that not even the stars are safe from me.”

Mattie had wanted to applaud. If there was one thing Elektra had always been, it was persuasive.

Quinn had acquiesced. The Frenchman, Jacques, and the other one, Eric, had briefed Elektra on what information they had on the Hand. Mattie had climbed to the roof just before dawn.

“You could stay here,” Elektra had said.

“I need to make sure Foggy’s safe,” Mattie had lied. She’d turned to go, then remembered. “Nobu - you said you killed him.”

“I put a knife in his heart, that usually does the trick.”

“I lit him on fire and heard his heart stop. A year ago. I wouldn’t count him out yet.”

“Are you saying you believe all this?”

“Just because I can’t explain it doesn’t mean I believe the fairy tale. The Hand may not be as rudderless as we’re hoping.”

“So we kill him again.”

“That would turn him into a martyr. More so than he already is. If he’s alive, we need to dethrone him.”

Elektra had nodded. “I’ll have the boys put together a contingency plan.”

“Look at you, delegating.” Mattie couldn’t help the smile.

“I like to think I’ve grown a little.” Elektra had stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Mattie’s shoulders. Mattie put her arms around Elektra’s waist, and they held each other for a moment before Mattie jumped off the roof and ran into the morning light.

She’d slept well into the afternoon, and had woke up to hear Foggy in the kitchen. He’d smelled of hair gel and the cologne she’d given him last Valentine’s Day, the one he wore to court for good luck.

His lunch with Hogarth. She’d forgotten about it.

“Hey,” she’d said. “How’d it go?”

“Good! Really good. She had an offer ready, right there on the table.” He’d pushed a folder across the kitchen counter to her. “Apparently, it wasn’t just the Castle case she’d liked.”

“What else?” She’d opened the folder, and brushed her fingertips over the printed papers, and tried not to have a heart attack at the starting salary.

“Pam’s arraignment? She said…she couldn’t have done a better job herself.”

“It was one of your finer moments,” Mattie had said. She’d reached across and taken his hand. “I’m proud of you.”

He’d laced his fingers with hers.

“What happened last night? You find Elektra?”

“Yeah. We did.” She’d taken a deep breath. “Stick’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, kitten.” He hadn’t been lying.

She could only smile sadly. “At least I can say he died doing what he loved. Killing ninjas and calling me a punk.”

He hadn’t laughed. “You OK?”

“No.” It still had seemed distant, unreal. “We’re going after them tonight.”

“You and Elektra?”

“And three other guys. Stick’s…students, I guess.”

“They good?”

“Good enough that Stick kept them around.”

He’d nodded.

“What do you need from me?”

She’d sighed. “Help me shut the world out?”

So he’d wrapped her in his arms and taken her to bed, and she’d pretended that there was nothing in the world except for him.

She’d taken Elektra to Melvin as the sun was going down, Elektra promising to return the armor “without a scratch.” Melvin had presented Mattie with a new set of billy clubs, with a hidden grappling line between them. She’d leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, because Melvin Potter, she knew, was someone who needed kindness in his life.

They’d just arrived at the Chaste’s headquarters in the bookshop when her burner phone had gone off.

“Claire?”

“No, it’s me,” Foggy had said. “I’m at the police station.”

“What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s Brett. He’s been roughed up.” Foggy had been pitching his voice low. “They were after files - incident reports. About you, and I don’t mean Mattie Murdock.” Mattie’s heart had started hammering. “The ones you’ve helped. Those were the ones they were after.”

“Call Karen. And Ben. Tell them to get somewhere safe.”

“On it. It’s them, isn’t it?”

“Probably. Stay close to Brett, don’t give them a shot at you. I love you.”

“Kick their asses.”

Foggy had ended the call, and she’d had to explain everything to the four ninjas.

“It’s me they want,” Elektra had said. “They think you’re the only thing standing in their way.”

Mattie’s phone had rung again.

“Karen and Ben aren’t picking up,” Foggy had said. “Brett’s starting to get reports of people being attacked, grabbed off the streets.”

Mattie had sworn profusely. “Call me if you hear from Karen or Ben.” She’d shut the phone. “I need to get to the roof,” she’d said.

She’d crouched at the corner like a gargoyle, listening desperately for Karen or Ben, or _anything_ , but it was too much, too many sounds fighting to get through.

“Quinn says we shouldn’t take the bait,” Elektra had said conversationally. “Jacques offered to go with you, and leave Quinn and Eric with me.”

“What about Eric?”

“He said he’ll do whatever I decide.”

“Those people are innocent, I can’t abandon them.”

“I know.” Elektra had gently laid her hand on Mattie’s back. “Slow your breath.”

Mattie had tried. She’d _tried_.

“It’s too loud, the electricity in the building, this city is pulsing -“

“It’s your city. You know it better than anyone. Focus, filter out anything that’s not important.” Elektra had kept talking, soothing noises that faded away as Mattie had peeled back her city’s layers.

And she’d heard it.

“Officer down, 36th and 7th.”

They’d sprinted down into the basement, where Elektra’s boys were waiting.

“We all know this is a trap, but there are innocent lives at stake,” Mattie had said. “And this might be our shot at exposing the Hand for what they really are.”

The men had turned their heads, looking at each other.

“I’ll get the car,” Quinn had said.

Elektra had been unimpressed when Quinn had pulled it around the corner.

“That heap?” she’d said.

“You want to parkour down thirteen blocks?” Quinn had snapped.

Elektra had sighed. “Fine. But I’m not taking the middle.”

Elektra rode shotgun. Jacques took the middle. Quinn broke every law of traffic in New York, and a good many unwritten rules as well, and pulled them into an alley at 36th and 6th. They’d climbed a fire escape and gathered on the roof opposite the building where Mattie could hear more than a dozen frightened heartbeats.

“What about the Hand?” Elektra had said.

“Hard to tell. They’re buzzing like a beehive, but…” Mattie had shrugged. “It could be an army.”

“Nobu?”

“Can’t tell.”

“We go in, we’re giving them what they want,” Elektra had said.

“We don’t go in, there are twenty innocent people who are going to get hurt,” Mattie had retorted. She’d stood up. “I don’t care about the rest of you, I’m going.”

Elektra had sighed. “Fine…”

Which was how Mattie and Eric had wound up swinging through the large window right into the middle of the hostages. She could hear Elektra, Jacques, and Quinn landing on the roof and rappelling down the sides of the building, crashing through a window on a lower floor, clearing a path.

“We’re clear,” Elektra had said.

The Hand ninjas guarding the hostages hadn’t been much of a fight for Mattie and Eric, and they’d thrown open the doors as Elektra’s group had come clambering up the stairs. They’d shouted at the hostages to run. Ben had slowed down as he passed her, but didn’t stop.

“Karen!” Mattie had said once she had a moment to catch her breath. Karen had stopped, and Mattie had pulled her into a hug quickly, before holding out her hand behind her. Jacques had tossed her one of his kamas, and she’d used the scythe blade to cut Karen’s ziptie handcuffs. “Get them out of here,” she’d said, and Karen had run. Mattie could hear her barking orders to the other hostages, hear them pouring out into the alley. She’d heard more cars, heard Brett’s voice, then Foggy’s, then there were more ninjas.

“Well, I suppose that answers the question about Nobu,” Elektra had said as she kicked a ninja down the stairs.

“He’s here?” Mattie had said.

“Just ducked out around the corner.”

They were being backed up, to the stairs, then up the floors towards the roof.

They’re trapped here, on the roof level, ninjas coming up the stairs at them, more on the roof waiting for them. If she dies here, there is no-one to protect the people outside.

“I always liked the fresh air,” Elektra says. “I say we go out there and take as many of them with us as we can.”

“You can’t -“ Quinn starts.

“I assure you, I will die before I let them take me,” Elektra says.

Mattie slows her breathing, and stretches her senses out, letting the voices around her fade away. She finds Foggy first, lets herself have a moment to ask him to forgive her. Then she hears it, almost the same sound that she’d heard sitting in Reyes’ office before the world had exploded.

_Wolves and girls. Both have sharp teeth._

She opens her eyes.

“There might be a chance,” she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, a lot of shout-outs in this one...
> 
> The "Wolves and Girls" dialogue is taken from Black Widow by Marjorie Liu. In the comic, it's about Natasha and Elektra, but it's so perfect for Mattie and Elektra's relationship.
> 
> Elektra's line that "not even the stars are safe" is, of course, a riff on her line "Not even the stars are safe in the sky." I can't find the issue or writer for it, but it's not my line!
> 
> The description of Stick's death as "killing ninjas and calling me a punk" is inspired by Redringsideseats, which is a fantastic Daredevil blog. They described Stick's comics death as "dying how he lived."


	3. Wolves and Girls

The Hand’s forces are assembled on the roof. Archers and swordsmen, lined up, waiting for them. Medieval tactics for medieval weapons. Now that she knows he’s there, she can sense Nobu in the middle, the chain of his _kyoketsu-shoge_ clinking as the blade hangs in the air.

Elektra strides out, Mattie at her side, Jacques, Quinn and Eric fanned out behind them. To her right, a little behind her, across the alley, Mattie can hear Frank Castle’s heartbeat, the metal scraping as he lays out his guns. She has no way to communicate with him, no way to be sure he’ll do what she needs him to do.

Elektra stops, facing the Hand. At this angle, they’re between Castle and some of the Hand, but there are so many Hand fighters, and so few of them. Elektra raises her sai and shouts something in Japanese.

While Elektra is talking, Mattie reaches behind her, clubs in her grip, crossing them, tapping them together at the small of her back. She sweeps her left hand out, pointing with the club, then brings her hand back. With her right hand, she flashes three fingers. Then two. Then one.

“Go!” she shouts, and the five of them charge at the left, driving a wedge into the Hand’s front line. The gunfire starts once they move, Castle’s assault rifle mowing down half the Hand’s exposed forces.

They’re surrounded by the remaining Hand ninjas, and Mattie hears the gunfire change from the constant stream of the assault rifle to the single cracks of a sniper rifle. Castle has apparently decided not to risk hitting them.

Eric is hit in the leg, and drops to his knee. Mattie intercepts the katana blade about to behead him, and jumps over Eric as Quinn drags him back. They’re being forced towards the edge of the roof, away from the stairs, away from Castle. Nobu’s _kyoketsu-shoge_ slashes Jacques across the back, and Elektra leaps in, tangling her sai in the chain and dragging the ring from his grip. The Hand are a solid wall of swords in front of them, but Elektra stands her ground, and they’re afraid to attack her.

Elektra laughs, and charges.

Nobu is shouting in Japanese as Mattie follows Elektra, Quinn on her heels. There’s no finesse, no elegance to this, just keep moving or die. Mattie is in the middle of the axis between Elektra and Quinn, and they rotate around her, dealing death.

Nobu has drawn his sword, and nearly drives it through Quinn’s back before Mattie can deflect it. Quinn ducks around Mattie, switching places with her, and holds back the rest of the ninjas with Elektra as Mattie forces Nobu backwards towards Jacques and Eric. Eric has the _kyoketsu-shoge_ in hand, using it to create a spinning shield in front of him, and he sweeps at Nobu’s legs as Jacques’ kamas slash at his throat. But Nobu is better than any of them, maybe even better than Elektra, and he lets the _kyoketsu-shoge_ wrap around his katana blade, kicking Eric in the face as he smoothly ducks under Jacques’ attack and plants an elbow in his throat. The chain-wrapped sword nearly slashes Mattie across the stomach, forcing her sideways, almost to the edge of the roof. He grabs the dangling blade of the _kyoketsu-shoge_ , and when Mattie attacks, he wraps the chain around her arm, pulling her close, and she needs to separate him from the rest of them, so she drags him in the one direction he’s not expecting: straight down.

She hears is Elektra screaming her name. Nobu is still holding onto the chain, falling with her, but her club is in her free hand, and she shoots the grappling hook, and they swing together, still trying to land blows, landing in a painful heap on the concrete below.

_Melvin Potter, I love you._

She can hear running feet on the rooftops, Frank Castle’s voice swearing, and the fight still going on. The civilians are at one end of the alley. Brett takes a step forward. Mattie can hear Karen muttering, “Foggy, don’t.”

Mattie gets to her feet as she hears Nobu unwrapping the chain around his sword. She snaps her clubs together, circling around him to place herself between him and the civilians. She has to win. She can’t let Foggy watch her die.

“You cannot hope to defeat us,” Nobu says, raising his katana.

Mattie smiles.

“Lot of people have said that to me,” she says. “I’m still here.”

“Not for long.”

He attacks her, then, darting in, the tip of his blade moving so fast she can barely register it. She parries, and her mind is suddenly perfectly clear. This is a dance, stepping in time with her partner, the air singing around them as blades and clubs and limbs slice through it, and she dances to the rhythm of Foggy’s heart beating behind her.

But even that isn’t enough. Nobu slams her against the wall, and nearly takes her head off. She ducks and kicks him in the side, but his sword skitters across the front of her armor, catching on the edge of a plate, and cutting through a seam. The cut underneath isn’t deep, but it’s enough to show Nobu how to wound her, and he has her on the defensive, forcing her backwards. Another cut, this one to the lightly-armored section on the inside of her thigh. Another to the side of her neck, barely half an inch from her artery. A kick sends her sprawling, and he’s about to charge forward when a blade protrudes from his chest.

Nobu’s body drops to the side as Elektra pulls her sai out of his back.

“Thanks,” Mattie says.

“Any time,” Elektra says. She holds out her hand, and helps Mattie up. Mattie turns her face up, and she can hear that the battle on the roof is over. Quinn, Jacques and Eric are alive.

“That’s not going to stop him,” Mattie says, waving a had towards Nobu.

“Hmm,” Elektra says. “Suppose you’re right.”

“Freeze!” comes Brett’s voice from the end of the alley. Mattie almost rolls her eyes.

“Brett -“ Foggy says.

“Stay back,” Brett says. “OK, Daredevil and ninja lady, drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads.” There are about five police officers pointing guns at them.

“That’s really not a good idea, Detective,” Mattie says. She realizes that she can hear a faint heartbeat coming from the body. It hadn’t been there three seconds ago.

“Hands on your heads, now! You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

“Brett, it’s OK, they saved us -“ Karen says.

“Get back!” Mattie shouts, pulling Elektra away from Nobu as he leaps up. There’s a gunshot, and Nobu slumps to the ground, half his head missing. The cops start shouting, looking for the shooter. Above them, on the roof, Frank Castle raises his sniper rifle and steps away from the edge, out of view.

“I don’t think he’s coming back from that,” Elektra says in Mattie’s ear.

“You need to go,” Mattie says, and she steps away, towards the police officers. She pauses, making sure she has their full attention, then shoots the grappler from her club, swinging up towards the roof. She can hear the assembled crowd gasping, Brett swearing. At the top of the arc, she flips gracefully, putting on a show, and lands in a roll on the roof as she hears Elektra, Quinn, Jacques and Eric slip off into the night.

“Showoff,” Frank Castle comments.

“Says the man holding the gun the size of my leg,” Mattie says, striding over to him. She stops, facing him, and wonders if she should thank him. It doesn’t seem right, though.

“You should go to that husband of yours,” Frank says casually as he packs up the rifle. “You need someone like that.”

“Yeah, I do.” She cocks her head. “What about you?”

“See ya around, Red.” He walks away, unconcerned about the police officers climbing the stairs inside the building. She uses the grappling line to swing to the next building (and she needs to send Melvin a fruit basket, or something, because the grappling line is _amazing_ ). And she crouches and listens.

The cops are trying to search the buildings, only finding dead ninjas. The hostages are being taken away in ambulances. She hears Ben and Karen climb into one, Karen protesting that she’s fine, she’s not hurt, and Ben patiently telling her that she needs to be checked out.

As the ambulance drives away, Foggy turns and walks away from the crowd, down an alley, then turning down another. It’s quiet, and she knows she’s silent when she drops to the ground behind him.

“Foggy,” she whispers.

He turns around.

“Please tell me it’s over,” he says.

“It’s over.”

He nods and approaches her, stopping at arm’s length. He reaches behind her head and flicks the clasp there, pulling the mask off her. She pulls the cowl down, feeling suddenly shy, as if they haven’t done this dozens of times before.

“Never seen you fight,” he says. “Not…in person. Not…you could have been _killed_.” And he pulls her against him, and she can feel that he’s still shaking as he holds her.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“I swear to God, I was about to punch Brett for pulling a gun on you.”

She chuckles a little. “It’s OK, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re…” He pulls back so he can look at her, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. “…incredible.” And he kisses her, hot and fierce, one of the horns of the mask digging into her back where he’s holding her, and _Oh_.

He kisses her, and she kisses him back, and then they’re just holding each other, hearts hammering on either side of her armor.

“Can we go home?” she whispers.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

***

Josie’s is surprisingly crowded, even on a Sunday night, but Foggy managed to sweet-talk the drunk guys away from the pool table, and now he and Karen are viciously battling it out while Ben narrates it.

Technically, they’re celebrating Foggy’s last night before he starts at HC&B, but there’s a lot to celebrate. Karen’s exposé on the Punisher was picked up by the _Bulletin_ , throwing new arguments into the already-fraught debate over vigilantes. More importantly, Ben had insisted that Ellison publish it under Karen’s byline. She now has a desk in Ben’s home office out in Queens, and Ben’s ad revenue is growing.

“I should mention,” Ben says quietly, “been getting a lot of messages asking if we’re going to do a story on Daredevil or Luke Cage, given the current climate.”

Mattie stays relaxed. “And are you?”

Ben shrugs. “There’s an obvious angle for us to write about Daredevil. ‘I’ve been saved by Daredevil twice.’ People like hearing about personal experiences. Even got a photo that night.” He pulls out his phone. “Uh, you can’t see it, but she’s flipping through the air, caught right in the floodlight. Not bad for a StarkPhone.”

“Sounds like you know what you want to do with it.”

“Yeah. I want to say thank you.” He puts his hand on her shoulder. Before she can even protest, he continues. “I mean it. And don’t blame Karen, she didn’t tell me.”

“I don’t -“

“I was right next to Foggy that night. Watched you fall off a roof. Heard him when he saw that. And I had to hold him back when the cops pulled their guns on you.”

She nods. “So what now?”

“Now Karen and I are going to write about being kidnapped and saved by Daredevil and her friends. And if you want to…contribute…I’ve never given up a source.”

She smiles.

“I’ll think about it,” she says.

“Already have a headline picked out. ‘The Woman Without Fear.’”

“That’s not exactly true,” she says, taking a sip of…whatever Josie gave them.

“Is that on record?”

“No.”

Ben chuckles. “Oh, and I thought you might be interested. Queens seems to have its own man in a mask - there’ve been YouTube videos popping up the past couple of weeks. Catching thieves, stopping cars. Some debate over whether the videos’re a hoax or not, but I managed to talk to the young woman who took one of them. He’s real.” Ben is typing something into his phone. “I’ve emailed you the link. Thought you should know.”

“What do you think I can do about it?”

Ben shrugs. “Up to you. But if I recall some of the stories correctly, you had a rough couple of months before you took Fisk down. Thought you might want to…share your wisdom.”

“What’re they calling this guy?”

“Spider-man.” Ben laughs when Mattie raises her eyebrows. “Apparently, he can shoot spiderwebs from his hands and stick to walls.”

“Really?”

“Still waiting on confirmation.”

“Let me know if you ever get to talk to him.”

Foggy appears by her side, putting his hand on her back.

“Karen is officially a pool shark,” he announces. “She is evil, never trust anything she says.”

“Or you just can’t play pool after three beers,” Karen laughs. “Did you tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“I told her,” Ben says.

“Ben knows. About me,” Mattie says.

“Oh,” Foggy says. “Are we - is that - how did that happen?”

“Your fault, actually. Apparently, your concern for me was touching and incredibly obvious.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, kitten.”

“It’s OK. I trust Ben.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben says. “I’m known for my discretion.”

“OK. Uh, good. So…we should get going,” Foggy says in her ear.

“Right,” Mattie says.

They say their goodbyes to Karen and Ben, and fight their way to the bar, Foggy holding her hand.

“Hey, Josie?” he calls. “You know that long-running Nelson & Murdock tab?”

“Yeah, I’ll add it on,” Josie says, long-suffering.

“No, uh, we’d like to settle up.”

He squeezes Mattie’s hand. She squeezes back.

When they get home, Foggy peers theatrically around the living room.

“Great, no crazy ex-girlfriends lurking,” he says.

“What, you’re worried Rachel’s going to break in, too?”

“Very funny. You know, I saw on Facebook she’s getting married.”

“That is terrifying on so many levels.” 

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, then rests her head on his shoulder. He leans his chin against her head, holding her tight, before he steps back so he can cup her face between his hands.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“I know.” He kisses her, softly, and takes her into the bedroom. He presses his lips to her still-healing cuts and her long-healed scars, and she tells him she loves him. They take their time. There’s no need to hurry.

In the morning, Mattie smiles when Foggy emerges from the bathroom smelling of hair gel and his good-luck cologne. She brushes her hand over his tie, straightening it from some imaginary crooked angle, and adjusts his tie clip.

“You going back to bed?” he says.

“Nah, I should take a shower and get dressed. I’m having lunch with Barry Wheeler. He’s got some contacts at the ACLU he wants me to meet.”

They’d agreed, in one of a hundred difficult conversations, that Mattie would be better off finding a new job, rather than trying to keep a firm afloat on her own.

“That’s great. Say hi to him for me,” Foggy says.

There’s a knock on the door, and Mattie recognizes the heartbeat and the expensive European cologne.

Foggy grabs his coat when he opens the door.

“Is Matilda here?” says a French-accented voice.

“Mattie, there’s a hot French guy here for you!” Foggy calls.

“Hi, Jacques,” Mattie says, coming around the corner. “Uh, have you met my husband, Foggy?”

“Not in person,” Jacques says, holding out his hand. “Pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Foggy says, shaking it. “OK, I gotta get going. Love you!” Foggy’s gone, leaving Jacques standing in their front hall.

“So that’s the husband?” he says.

“Yeah.”

“He’s not like us.”

“No. That’s why I love him. Do you want some coffee?” Mattie says.

“Love one,” Jacques says.

Mattie pours him a mug, and he declines cream and sugar.

“Elektra said you’d get this back to the one it belongs to,” Jacques says, putting a bundle of fabric on the counter. Mattie doesn’t have to touch it to know it’s the outfit Melvin lent Elektra. “And she’d like you to give him this.” Jacques puts an envelope on top of the bundle. “And this is for you.” He holds out a second envelope, which Mattie takes. It’s not sealed, so she pulls out the cheque inside. Curious, she brushes her fingertips over it, and sucks in a breath at the large number written on it. Jacques sips his coffee, apparently unaware of what he was carrying.

She doesn’t ask him why Elektra didn’t come herself. Mattie, better than anyone, knows that Elektra doesn’t like saying goodbye.

“She doing OK?” she says instead.

“She left with Quinn this morning. We’re going to join them once Eric’s leg is better.”

“Doing what?”

“Find the rest of the Chaste. Stick used to talk about a city in China, Elektra thinks we might find some answers there. Or some allies.” He nods, almost a seated bow. “We leave New York in your hands.” He puts the mug down and stands up. “Elektra says to call her if you have any trouble.”

“I will.”

Jacques turns to go, then turns back.

“You and Elektra…you were…?” He trails off on the implication.

“Yes.”

“But you’re married now.”

“Yes.”

“So…does _Elektra_ like -“

“No.”

“Ah.” He sighs, disappointed. “You’re sure?”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, dude.”

“Pity.” He shrugs with Gallic ease. “ _Au revoir_ , Daredevil.”

Elektra’s departure leaves New York a little quieter, a little more peaceful. Mattie finds herself missing her, but a little thankful that she’s gone.

Of course, Mattie knows that moments of peace can’t last forever.

“So, you know that favor you owe me?” Claire says when Mattie picks up the phone.

“No. I know about a dozen I owe you.”

“I’m collecting. Get your ass up to Harlem, you’ve got a new client.”

Something always comes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm...I'll admit, I've been wrestling with this one for a while, trying to find a way into this season's story. Hopefully, you enjoyed it, and will stick around for the next instalment!


End file.
